Oh boy, what an adventure Hudson and I had! You see, a few months ago, I decided it was high time for me to get out of dodge, or at least time for me to move out of the family home. I’d been feeling somewhat stifled since the twerp arrived, and getting a bachelor pad seemed like a good way to mitigate that uncomfortable feeling. I spent countless minutes looking on the internet and found the perfect place. Picture this, waterfront property, high ceilings, with lots of grass just outside the sliding glass doors to squish between my toes and, best of all, a management company to do all the snow removal and landscaping. I haven’t been able to master the use of a snow blower what without opposable thumbs, and am too short for a riding mower, so it was imperative I have someone else take care of that. The only problem with this townhouse was that it needed some major remodeling. Fortunately, I have a bank account where I’ve been stashing all the money I’ve made as an actor. I called a contractor to get an idea of how much it’d cost and quickly realized that I didn’t have the funds to cover it. I now had three options:1. Find a different place, 2. settle for fewer updates, or 3. ask Hudson to move in with me and share the cost – he’s got a pretty hefty savings account from all his media jobs. One and two seemed like too much work, so I asked Hudson to move in. I’d been thinking about it anyway, as I enjoy his company and I’d need a wingman for Friday nights out. Hudson accepted, and we called the contractor. I put a lot of thought into every detail. I picked out the floor, the bathroom, and kitchen tile, the lighting (as an actor, I know the importance of good lighting), the electric blinds, I had the banister refinished to match the stairs which I also had refinished, I even had a photo of my siblings and me turned into tiles for the kitchen. The remodeling took longer than scheduled – yeah, shocker! – and Hudson and I finally moved it.
Things were great! We had freedom to come and go as we pleased. We could go to bed late and sleep in. We could jump on the furniture and bark recreationally all day long at nothing in particular. Unfortunately, soon the problems started. Neither one of us could cook and neither wanted to clean. We discussed it and decided that perhaps we should ask Pepe if he wanted to move in, provided he do the cooking and housework. Pepe was ecstatic. He kept his end of the deal (he’s a wonderful chef) and all was well chez nous.
They say all good things must come to an end and Casa de Chester was no exception. The twerp started calling Hudson on the phone, saying he was lonely and asking if he could visit. Being the conciliatory gentleman that he is, Hudson invited him over. To say I was livid is an understatement. I mean, I’d specifically left no forwarding address. What was Hudson thinking? Sure enough, one twerp visit led to two, to three, to four…. It took me two weeks to realize that he’d actually moved in. Well, I was having none of that. After all, he was the main reason I had moved out of the family home in the first place. I tried everything possible to get Rodney out of there. I “forgot” to wake him for our group walks, I excluded him from our canine-have-you-marked-that-corner meetings, I even hid his bowl at mealtimes. Undeterred, he greeted me every day with a smile. It was infuriating, I tell you.
I finally could take no more and asked mom if I could move back home. I knew I’d have to curtail the freedom to which I’d become accustomed, but I thought it preferable to sharing my bachelor pad with a twerp. Plus I was a bit hoarse from all the recreational barking. I’d not been back home for a day, when there was a knock at the door. Dad opened and, to my horror, there they were – Hudson, Pepe and the twerp, suitcases in hand. You know how they say you can’t go home again? Well, it turns out you can. The only problem is so can the twerps in your life.
Photos Courtesy of The Author